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Two columns of printing appeared on each page along with a header.
OF DEBATES IN CONGRESS And a date.
February 9, 1793 He scanned one of the pages until he found Mr. Madison. The subject of the proposition laid before the House will now, I presume, Mr. Chairman, recur for our deliberation. I imagine it to be of the greatest magnitude, a subject, sir, that requires our first attention and our united exertion. In drafting our Constitution this Congress was bestowed the specific power to grant letters of marque, as the current policy of nations so sanctions throughout the world. Indeed, our victory over England would not have occurred but for the courageous efforts of entrepreneurs possessed of both ships and the ability to make appropriate use of them. Happy it is for us that such a grant was, and remains, within our power. We are all painfully aware that we do not, as yet, possess sufficient men and ships to float an adequate navy in our common defense, so I concur in the proposal for the grant of these letters of marque to Archibald Hale, Richard Surcouf, Henry Cogburn, and Samuel Bolton, in perpetuity, so that they might continue a robust and continuous attack on our enemies. The motion was put by the Chairman, and was agreed upon by all in attendance. The said letters of marque were directed to be forwarded to the Senate for action. The House adjourned.
He examined the other sheet and saw that its wording was similar, only from the Senate journal where the letters were also unanimously approved, the last line of that entry making clear “that the said enactment be forwarded to Mr. Washington for signature.”
Here was what the Commonwealth had sought. What men had died for. These two documents meant nothing but trouble. Their reemergence would cause only problems.
Good agents solved problems.
He tore both sheets into confetti and scattered the pieces across the water on the floor. He watched as they dissolved away.
Done.
He retreated to the rope, passing Knox one last time.
“You died for nothing,” he told the corpse.
He climbed back to ground level. Time to leave this lonely outpost. Birds cooed all around him, their movement constant on the wall walks.
He retrieved the rope from the hole and decided, enough. He called out, “Why don’t you come out and let’s talk?”
He’d sensed from the moment he returned to the fort that he was not alone. At the far end of the collapsed hall, Cotton Malone appeared.
“I thought you were gone,” Wyatt said.
“I came back to retrieve the pages, but then I was told you were coming for them, too.”
“I assumed the Canadian authorities would be involved at some point.”
“We waited as long as we could. What happened down there?”
“The Commonwealth is minus a quartermaster.”
He noticed Malone carried no weapon, but there was no need. Six armed men appeared on the wall walks above him.
There’d be no fighting today.
“And the pages?” Malone asked.
He shook his head. “An empty receptacle.”
Malone apprized him with a tight gaze. “I guess that ends the Commonwealth.”
“And no president will have to deal with it again.”
“Lucky them.”
“Whether you believe it or not, I would have never sold those pages to Hale.”
“Actually, I do believe it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Still the self-righteous ass?”
“Old habit. The president says this is your one freebie, as thanks for what you did in New York, and what you did here with Carbonell.” Malone paused. “I guess he owes you one more thanks now, too.”
The silence between them confirmed what he’d done.
“And you can keep NIA’s money.”
“I planned to anyway.”
“Still defiant to authority?”
“At least neither one of us will ever change.”
Malone motioned to the gaping hole in the floor. “Both bodies down there?”
“No sign of the she-devil.”
“You think she swam out?”
He shrugged. “Those chutes weren’t like when you and I went through them. She’d better have good lungs.”
“As I recall, she did.”
Wyatt smiled. “That she did.”
Malone stepped aside. Wyatt asked, “Does my free pass extend to leaving Canada unmolested?”
“All the way home to Florida. I’d offer you a ride, but that would be too much togetherness for us both.”
Probably so, he thought.
He started to leave.
“You never answered me last night,” Malone said. “We even?”
He stopped but did not turn back. “For now.”
And he left.
EIGHTY-FIVE
WHITE HOUSE
4:40 PM
CASSIOPEIA WAITED INSIDE THE BLUE ROOM, THE SAME BEDROOM she’d occupied yesterday to change, the same one where she and Danny Daniels had talked. Shirley Kaiser was with her.
“How’s the finger?” she asked.
“Hurts like hell.”
Once plucked from the Atlantic, she, Cotton, Stephanie, and Shirley had been brought to Washington. Shirley had received medical attention for the amputation, but the Commonwealth’s doctor had done an admirable job of suturing her wound. Some medication for pain and a shot for infection was all she’d needed.
“That swim hurt worse,” Shirley said. “Salt water. But it beat the hell out of staying on board.”
Adventure’s crew had also been retrieved by a Coast Guard cutter, which arrived at the scene within minutes of the sloop’s destruction. The crew had been advised by radio to abandon ship or go down with it. All of them chose to leave. Only Quentin Hale sank with her. But he was long dead by then. Stephanie had told her about what Cotton had started and Shirley had finished.
“You okay?” she asked.
They were both worn out, their bodies sore.
“I’m glad I got to shoot him. It cost me a finger, but I think it was worth it.”
She had to say, “You shouldn’t have gone there.”
“Really? If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have come. And then who knows where we, or Stephanie, would be right now.”
The cocky attitude had returned.
“At least it’s over,” Shirley said.
That it was.
Secret Service and FBI had raided the Commonwealth compound and arrested the other three captains and all of the crew. They were busy now searching every square centimeter of all four estates.
A soft knock came at the door, then it opened and in walked Danny Daniels. She knew it had been a tough afternoon for him, too. On their return, Edwin Davis had told the president everything. Their talk had been private, then had included Pauline Daniels, the three of them, for the past hour, together behind closed doors a few rooms down the hall.
“Pauline would like to see you,” Daniels said to Shirley.
She rose to leave, but stopped in front of the president and asked him, “You okay?”
He smiled. “Coming from a woman with nine fingers? I’m fine.”
They all knew what had been discussed behind those closed doors. No sense pretending anymore.
“It’s okay, Danny,” Shirley said. “You’re going to be a man long after being president.”
“I thought you hated me?”
Shirley touched his shoulder. “I do. But thanks for what you did for us out there.”
Daniels had been the one to order the choppers dispatched. He hadn’t wanted to trust any local law enforcement so, when Davis radioed the problem, he’d given the army at Fort Bragg a direct command. He’d also been on the line, directing the pilots as to what to do, personally taking responsibility for the ship’s sinking.
“We simply stopped some presidential assassins from fleeing the country,” he said.
“You did good, Danny.”
“That’s quite a compliment. Coming from you.”
And
Shirley left.
